Our Local that Was

Summer of '17

As it was
Our local beach and bay at Vagionia Bay

Coffee, wine, ouzo or just a cool swim

Poseidon on beach duty

There was always someone to clean the beach.... and the sea 

after a northerly gale

Family get-togethers

Or just a book ...

And a glass of wine

Observing the wild life ...

close up and personal

The gang

Greek island paradise?

Summer of '18


Rules and regulations
Lack of local 'authority'
Laws laid down by the Ministry of Archeology
have turned the beach into this

A dusty expanse.  No shade.

No cool drinks

Plastic bags and old shoes on the beach

The sea full of debris

This little beach is located right below the ancient temple dedicated to the god of the sea, mighty Poseidon.  It must have been a safe harbour 4,000 years ago and there was probably a thriving settlement all the way up to the temple.  Nothing to show now and all that remains of the temple, the ancient market place and healing centre are a few lumps of marble and pieces of broken columns.  

You cannot build in some areas or even dig a hole although there are older houses at various places going up the hill.  The canteen was moved from the left side of the access road to the right last year , a space of about 10 metres, to comply with regulations.  Ridiculous? Of course.

The archeological ministry is not excavating in this area, nor is it likely to, but forbids any digging in the ground by anyone.  Those that own land in this forbidden zone can do nothing with their land except pick their olives.  

This why, to comply, the canteen was portable and moveable.

The owner of a small holiday home complained about the noise from the canteen which was now in front of his shack, which he used for a couple of weeks every summer.  He took them to court for blocking his view of the sea.

The council announced that at a ridiculously high rent a licence would be issued to put and rent sunbeds along the beach.  No-one bothered to bid on the option. Without the canteen there is no profit.

The ineffectual council, the house owner and the archeological dept. have managed to close down one of the island's most profitable and popular tourist beaches.  This on an island that lives off tourism.

Summer Shots

No, not those sort of shots.  Photos.  Of a Poros summer

The trata, fishing boat, has just laid a long line, illegally, in our little bay and has to sit around for a few hours before bringing it in.

Now and again the Port Police come down for an inspection but rarely when these boats are laying nets or lines inside the bay

Alfa is making the best beer this year according to local 'experts'.  Well brewed and well rested, if that's the right terminology.  A lager with 5% alcohol with a Greek name, brewed in Athens, light gold colour and rich foam.  I have been reading the advert as you can see. 

The most popular Greek iced coffee.  A simple frappe (should have an accent over the 'e' but I can't find it on the keyboard), made with instant nescafe and lots of iced water, sugar and milk if you want it

A pot of basil in the trunk of a tree on the beach, looks like it is planted in a Sol beer cooler

How I pass my time at the beach.  I have been ploughing through that Bruce Chatwin biography for months.  Finally finished it yesterday.  Certainly a weird guy.  An extraordinary life.  The bio goes into some graphic detail of his gay lifestyle, a little more than I really wanted to know

The manager of the beach bar down below us after the Full Moon party.  I'm surprised he let me take his photo.  The party went on till 6.30am and we were down there at 10am for coffee and a swim with the grandkids.  Looks like he must have been doing a massive clean-up in time for re-opening, no time to sleep or shave.

Great party apparently.  Pieces of broken glass we picked up from around our table

Cocoa-cola has a summer competition, 90 free holidays up for grabs. I enter the code from every can of this stuff I drink (which isn't much) but no luck yet. 

Not famous but obviously rich.  He parked his big Mercedes illegally opposite the cafeteria and sat down with his, not one, but two 'girl friends', to enjoy a coffee by the sea.  We watched with interest when the police came along and made him move the car, which he did immediately and very good naturedly.  One law for all this time.

What most sunbathers do between swims.  Phone or ipod

On a blustery day you can literally sunbathe in the sea (because the beach is so narrow)

Or try some windsurfing

15th August on the island of Tinos.  Those saying 'thank you' for the intervention of the Virgin Mary or asking for her blessing literally crawl from the harbor to the church

I have turned on the TV for a marathon 5 hour coverage of the service, parade of the icon and blessings taking place today on the island of Tinos.  It's always interesting to see the pomp and ceremony.

Every so often this coverage is cut to show the wildfires raging north of Athens.  Yesterday the wind was blowing our way and the horizon was white with smoke, the smell of burning in the air.

A Greek farce

17th June, almost mid summer season and our local beach bar at Vayonia Bay has been taken to pieces like a broken jigsaw.  We, and all the other visitors, tourists and locals, have nowhere to sit, nowhere to drink ouzo, nowhere to shower after a dip in the sea, no sunbeds to sit on.

Sit tight and let me tell you a tale.  A drama, a comedy, a Greek farce.

At easter the bar was open as usual and doing a roaring trade.  The sun was out and foolhardy northern europeans were actually bathing.

Fast forward a few weeks.  The bar is closed.  The licence has to be renewed.

Days go by.  Weeks of  hot weather, three long weekends, an island full of city slickers.  The bar is still closed.  The sunbeds are stacked above the beach.  Toilets are closed.  No cold beer, no iced coffee, no ouzo and meze.

Beginning of June.  The archealogical department hands down an ultimatum.  The beach bar must be moved lock stock and barrel 10 metres to the right.  I kid you not.

This has been  the site of the bar for the last, how many, fifteen? years.  Now there is an empty space.  The toilets still stand lonely as a loo can be at the back of the old bar area.

Finally, almost three months later, the owners have their licence.  They have taken the bar literally to pieces and are reconstructing it 10 metres to the right.    Why did the bar have to be moved 10 metres?

The land on the left hand side of this road is designated Zone A by the Archeological Department and cannot be used for anything but sheep and goat grazing.  The land 2 metres away on the right hand side of the road is Zone B and you can build on it.

In-bloody-credible. 

We are talking about a beach bar here, a temporary structure.

This island which owes its existence to tourism is under the thumb of some official in a  ministery who only cares for red tape and the letter of the law.

There are probably  ancient ruins all over and under the bay and the hills above but they are never going to be investigated, dug up or studied, not in my lifetime or my grandchildren's I bet.   The islanders have lost income, the council has lost revenue, the government has lost taxes.

And we have missed our Sunday ouzo by the sea.

Grandson decided to go swimming anyway and stood on a spiny sea urchin.  He spent all the rest of the day painfully digging out the broken spines from his foot with a needle and a pair of tweezers.  If the bar was open the owners would have cleaned up the beach and removed all dangers like this from the shallows.

Ghika the billy goat is the only one to benefit from this chaos.  He and his harem have had the beach to themselves.  Once the invasion starts they'll take to the hills.

And this is not the only beach affected. Monastery beach is usually full on a hot weekend like this, all sunbeds occupied, tables full of holiday makers eating and drinking at the canteen.  This year there are no sunbeds, no canteen, no people.

Kalo Kalokairi

Happy summertime